


a pretty enchantress

by calarinanis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Circe and Odysseus Retelling, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:46:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26731603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calarinanis/pseuds/calarinanis
Summary: Hermione is the Queen of Ithaca in search of her men who have been captured by the famed witch, Pansy. Feelings soon blossom and Hermione finds herself contented upon the island and with the company of Pansy who is rather eager to please.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	a pretty enchantress

Ancient old trees with barks of silver shaded the path that she traversed. The island was the home of the enchantress, Pansy, whose fine voice was her guide throughout the thicket of the forest. The soft crooning was mesmerising. Each note was sung to perfection, a study in the art of singing. Something that Hermione had never mastered for it was an inaccurate art, it could not be measured and understood but simply felt in the heart. She steeled her shoulders. It would not do to fall prey to the spells weaved by Pansy. Humming a ditty, she moved along the path with the intent of blocking out the very noise that so soothed her. It was a futile experiment. She was shrouded in the singing and could feel the vibrations pulse against her skin. She took a deep breath. The sound intensified as she approached.

The palace was beautiful. Carved from stone, it looked as if wildness had been unleashed for it was no ordinary palace. Dark green vines were weaved across every stone, bright flowers of lemon yellow and purple were nestled in each crevice and tall grass surrounded it from every angle. There appeared to be no way through. A frown appeared upon her face. Hermione reasoned all the possible approaches, going through each scenario with a fine-tooth comb until she spotted a slight indentation in the grass on the left hand side. That must be the manner of entry. She started towards it.

“Pass not without protection.” The messenger god, Hermes, appeared before her very eyes.

Hermione crossed her arms. “I am amongst the greatest witches within these lands, the Queen of Ithaca. I have nothing to fear from a mere enchantress.”

“She will ensnare you within moments of you crossing the threshold, her voice has already led you thus far.” He placed an herb in her palm. “You must draw your wand as you enter and threaten the curse of death until she allows your men to leave without harm.” He paused. “Do not enter her bed until you are certain of the safety of your men for she is a skilled seductress and has caused the downfall of those greater than you.”

Hermione watched as he disappeared, his words circling around her mind like lions to prey. It would do no harm to have her wand ready. Pulling it out of the folds of her cloak, she approached the palace with caution. The enchantress still sung but she did not feel the magic enclose upon her mind. She tucked the herb into her cloak. It was a precious gift and one that was useful despite her initial scepticism. Her heart pounded with anticipation. Her words to Hermes had been true for she was amongst the greatest witches and yet she had relied upon her skill for all of these years rather than brute force. It had been many years since her last duel of consequence.

“Who approaches my palace?” A handsome woman faced her as she entered.

Hermione’s first thought was of her beauty. A face of pure alabaster with eyes of the finest green stared at her. Her dress appeared to be made of vines, criss-crossing against her body and showcasing a deep V between her breasts. It covered less than it exposed. Warmth flooded within her cheeks. She was far more beautiful than the stories told of her. They had spoken of a haggard, bitter enchantress and yet before her stood a woman surely fashioned by Aphrodite herself.Hermione surveyed her. She was too beautiful to be dangerous.

“I am the Queen of Ithaca, come to reclaim my crew.” Hermione stood tall and met the eyes of the enchantress.

She refused to name the enchantress even in her own mind. Pansy. It was a name that sounded far too intimate and she had no wish to acquaint herself until her men were freed. Though it seemed to be Ron’s fault for their capture. He had never been able to resist the allure of food and wine. She noted the smirk upon the woman’s face and drew her wand to eye-level. It would be a shame to remove one of those pretty emerald eyes for no reason but Hermione wasn’t simply going to walk away.

The enchantress moved closer to her. “Fret not, my Queen,” she said as she dipped into a curtsey, exposing even more of her creamy white breasts.“Spend a night with me and I’ll free them.”

“Release them and swear upon Artemis that you will not harm them,” Hermione said as she jabbed her wand into the enchantress’s neck.

“I swear by Artemis that I will not hurt them,” she arose from the floor with a smirk playing on her lips.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as she heard the vow. It allowed her to relax her shoulders slightly and put away her wand. That had been far easier than she had expected. It was not easy, however, to quell the lust rising in her body. It was as if fire had taken hold of her body, burning through her flesh, until it could be satiated. She raked her hands through the already wild mane. Her men came out one-by-one and left, each of them giving her a passing glance of apology but none more so than Harry whose expression held guilt in every corner. It had been his fault, then. Not Ron as she first suspected. Ron whose blue eyes searched her face and then nodded as he left through the door. It was hard to pay attention, however. The enchantress had positioned herself against the door, her legs stood so far apart.

“Will you spend a night with me then, Hermione?” Her voice was ethereal with a slight purr as she closed the door.

Hermione felt her heart race as shock took hold of her face.

“Worry doesn’t suit you,” the enchantress said as she leant forward to caress Hermione’s cheek. “All of Greece knows your name from your deeds, darling Hermione.”

Pleasure rushed through Hermione’s body at the unexpected touch. “You make a very tempting offer, enchantress.”

“Come now.” She crooked her finger at Hermione. “You are well aware that my name is Pansy.” She pouted.

“Very well, Pansy,” Hermione emphasised her name. “I agree to spend a night with you.”

Anxiety swam in circles around her body. It had been a long time since she had last slept with a woman and never had she met one with dancing emerald eyes like Pansy. She tried to focus her mind upon the rational thoughts buried beneath the nerves. A single night was a small price to pay for the safety of her men and it was certain to be memorable. Of that she was certain.

—

Summer’s days passed into winter nights, swapping bright yellow sunshine for pure white snow and yet Hermione could not bring herself to leave. Pansy was an exceptional host in every way from the delicious food to the mesmerising entertainment to the way she gave Hermione pleasure. Her crew had left many moons ago, leaving her at her request. It was as if she was under some strange enchantment.

“You have not touched your food, love.” Pansy took her hand with a wicked look. “Could it be I did not satiate you?”

Her words set Hermione’s mind aflutter for they were said in such an innocent tone and yet accompanied with a wink that was nothing short of seduction. Hermione kissed her hand.

“It is nothing of concern,” she said as she forced her face into a wide smile that exposed her uneven teeth.

Pansy’s hand crept to her face and Hermione felt her cheeks grow warm. A warrior witch was her reputation and here she was undone by a mere enchantress. It was unfathomable in her mind. Those lively green eyes held mischief as Pansy’s hands slipped past her neck to the soft curves of her breasts. Hermione felt her breathing grow faster. Pansy cupped one in the palm of her slender hand with her long fingernails lightly scratching her.

“I can make it better for you.” Pansy’s voice held a note of reprove.

Delight danced down Hermione’s spine, warming every part it touched as she felt Pansy’s nimble fingers caress her breast. No longer did she feel the shy innocent she had been when she arrived upon the island. Pansy had taught her the many ways a woman could feel pleasure and had been more than happy to demonstrate. A moan escaped her.

Pansy’s plump lips sucked her nipple with greed. “Pansy-”

“Let me ease your mind.”

Panting, Hermione felt desire shoot through her body as Pansy bit down on the very tip of her nipple. She had never felt so comfortable as she did with Pansy. War and politics and learning had come easy to her since she had been a small child but love and lust had been so foreign. No man or woman had ever looked at her sinewy muscles and lion’s mane of hair and loved her for it until Pansy.

Hermione felt as if she couldn’t breathe. Her breaths grew faster and shallower as Pansy moved to her other breast, loving it in equal turn. A glint appeared in Pansy’s eyes and soon Hermione felt her dress slip down from her body entirely. She stood naked. Her hands wriggled down to cover herself but Pansy caught them in a grip of steel. She had been here for many months and still she felt the prickles of discomfort at showing her body to Pansy. It was strange given that she had no such qualms about seeing Pansy’s naked body. Instead, she longed to see those round curves hidden by the green dress knotted at her waist.

“Mine.” A single word yet full of meaning was spoken by Pansy.

A sticky wetness began to pool in her pussy as she felt Pansy move further down her body, kissing and teasing. She arched her back against the wooden chair she was sat in and wove her hands through Pansy’s sleek raven hair.It was silken and felt so smooth against Hermione’s fingers, a far cry from her own bristled hair. Pansy’s lips left a trail upon her inner thigh, each kiss intensifying the lust in Hermione’s body. She could hear her heartbeat thump in anticipation.Pansy’s hands were occupied with her breasts, twisting and pinching, until Hermione felt a gush of warmth slide down her thigh. It was not there for long, however, as she felt the warm muscle of Pansy’s tongue lap it up as if it were ambrosia.

Longing took hold of her body. She needed Pansy. She needed to feel those elegant fingers slide into her pussy as they had done so many times since her arrival. Frustration was building upon her face, so evident to Pansy who quickened her efforts. Hermione felt those fingers penetrate, touching and swirling round and round. Loud moans began to escape her. Pansy’s fingers crept ever further inside, rubbing her nub until hot cum covered them which did not take long for Hermione had become so desperate. Ecstasy flooded her body, a sensation to which Pansy had made her accustomed, and she lay back in the chair with an expression of serenity.

“You look happier now, my Hermione.” Pansy seated herself in Hermione’s lap and rested her head against her chest.

Winter nights changed back to summer days, the pure white snow melted to make way for the bright yellow sun and yet Hermione stayed at Pansy’s hearth. Her host was still exceptional in every way. The deep red wine spiced with cinnamon was swapped for a sweeter wine of pale colour, the music became lively again and the constant was Pansy. Her crew came and went several times; still she did not leave with them. Contentment was the spell that Pansy had woven upon her, heady and frenzied, and so very welcomed by Hermione.

It was not yet time for her to leave.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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